2nd May: So after a bacchanalian first night, I woke up at 0700 beset by fear, loathing and jet lag. We decided that we would drop into Annapolis, a short drive away and look at the pretty boats and whatnot in the harbour. However, Mr Lucien's car was dead, and despite our best efforts to charge it the previous day, it refused to budge. We elected to lounge around the house until Mrs G. got home that afternoon.
Upon reaching Annapolis, we had a little walk around, checking out the pretty harbour area, and then headed over to Pusser's bar, which despite its odd name, was in fact the hotel bar of the Marriott. We discussed our upcoming trip DC for a little walking around and then onto a the birthday party of 'Pickle Girl' (I don't really have space on how she got her nickname, but I've also forgotten her real name. Anyway, I think Mr Lucien likes her, and is intending to use me a an uber-wingman, what with me posh accent and all).
Over a plate of oysters, shrimps and calamari, we wondered what gift we could possibly get her. Pickle Girl does intend to travel, possibly to Egypt, so a guide book to there, perhaps with a nice inscription from Mr Lucien would be a thoughtful and sensitive gift. I then pointed out that we could quite easily ruin that by marking out on Post-Its the places in the book where Mr Lucien has had torrid sex with a variety of prostitutes and n'er-do-wells, with perhaps short discriptions of the partner and the act. In addition to this, instead on the inscription, he could simply draw a picture of a large penis on the inside cover: the perfect gift.
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